Relativity
by Tortugita
Summary: Lavinia was living her dream when she's suddenly thrown into a world she never knew existed. LH/OC
1. Prologue

Relativity

Rated: T+ (May go up in later chapters)

WARNING: This story contains ideologically sensitive material involving human mutation and mutant love.

Leatherhead/OC

_Relativity: A state of dependence in which the existence or significance of one entity is solely dependent on that of another._

Prologue:

"He's on his way now!"

"_What_?!" a tall, raven haired, bespectacled woman exclaimed. She stood, caught hovering over a trinocular microscope, with a clip board and pen in hand, jotting notes as she examined a blood sample. She tensed instantly and rounded chocolate eyes to the male, knowing exactly what her manager meant, but praying she'd misheard.

"Mr. Stockman! He's heading here right now!" Replied John Floyd as he ran a trembling hand through gray speckled hair. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his neck flushed red as he stressed about their time limit being cut considerably.

Lavinia Fontaine cursed to herself and snapped the light on the microscope off, removing the blood sample and pushing the microscope to the side. She set the clip board and pen down to return the sample to a cooling unit and hurried to Floyd's side.

"Why is he coming now? We're not ready!" She said, following quickly as he sped towards room 213, their largest and most advanced testing room.

"I can't say. He just said he was on his way now and expected to see some progress," Floyd explained, throwing open a large white door with only a small window that had pin point lines criss-crossing over its pane.

Inside the lab, large equipment lined the walls neatly, while smaller machines were tucked away on shelves and in cabinets. The walls were plain and undecorated and the floor was the same bland white. In the middle of the room was a metal table all ready set up for the patient they didn't have.

Typically, their experiments called for civilian volunteers who were paid generously for their time. More often than not, homeless people strayed in for a quick buck, but they weren't terribly picky in most cases.

"What about our volunteer? We have nothing to show without someone to test on! Mr. Stockman isn't going to accept theories and assumptions," Lavinia frowned as Floyd released a small, dry sob. He had his back to her as he clumsily fumbled with vials. He shook his head, hair in disarray and bouncing slightly in the movement.

"I don't know… I don't know…" Floyd moaned, dropping his elbows on an empty white counter top and supporting his head as he tried to regulate his breathing. The poor man had severe anxiety and with their jobs suddenly on the line, he was on the brink of hyperventilating.

Lavinia chewed her lip, searching for some sort of answer. Baxter Stockman was a renowned scientist famous for his brilliant inventions. He owned several labs and Lavinia had only had a job under him for six months; she was not about to relinquish it over something they should have had ready by now.

Baxter Stockman had been Lavinia's idol since the very first day she learned about his research as a freshman in college. She new he was a very respected man, but unfortunately also very impatient. When he gave a deadline, he meant it. There were no second chances, as she was warned upon hiring.

Her heart thumped as she realized that the only possibility of them both surviving this was to switch her position from scientist to subject. Of course, so much could go wrong with a substance that hadn't been tested, but which was more important? Having boils for a few weeks or losing the career she'd strived so hard for? She gulped, but clenched her fists in resolve, nodding to herself firmly as she made her way across the room to place a hand on Floyd's shoulder.

Floyd had been kind to her from day one. Always patient, he'd gently corrected mistakes she made, 'forgetting' to send in write ups.

In a sense, she owed him a lot.

"I've got this, Floyd," She said, patting his quivering shoulder.

He made a small squeaking sound in the back of his throat and turned watery eyes to regard her in confusion," What?"

"You can test the product on me."

"Miss Fontaine…" Floyd shook his head doubtfully, turning to face her and straightening his back in his own subtle way of trying to put his foot down. Unfortunately for him, Lavinia stood at a good five foot eight, so she could easily look him in the eyes. Brows furrowing, she set her shoulders and raised her jaw. He'd give in, quickly.

"We've gone over and over the equations for months, Floyd. We both know that this new compound is failsafe," She reassured, smiling at him. Indeed, they'd spent many sleepless nights hunched over equations and samples. She was positive that they had every base covered.

Before he could argue further, the door opened and a mousy looking young man with glasses that were far too large for his thin face burst through, looking more than a little panicked.

"M-Mr. S-Stockm-man is h-here!" He stuttered. Timothy Smith was a skittish little intern who'd only worked there for a week. Neither Lavinia nor Floyd knew just what to think of him, yet.

Lavinia smiled and nodded confidently, though her heart plummeted. She'd never actually met Baxter Stockman and he was going to be surveying something _she_ helped create. Her stomach flopped nervously and she hoped that everything went according to plan.

Before either could dismiss the trembling man, a tall, regal looking man wearing a flowing white lab coat entered the room. Dark skin, high cheekbones, strong jaw… topped with the smart looking glasses…

Lavinia's knees suddenly felt weak.

"Yes, yes," he said with an elegant wave of his hand, "thank you Tommy."

Timothy nodded fervently and dashed as fast as his short legs could carry him from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Lavinia's heart stopped as she took in Stockman's tall form. _The_ Baxter Stockman. He was nothing like she expected. The Stockman she pictured was old and weathered. The man before her was handsome and young. Her throat tightened and her hands became damp and she gawked like a sill teen girl. She barely remembered to breathe when Floyd suddenly brushed past her to clasp the man's hand.

"Mr. Stockman!" He greeted, suddenly regaining his composure; and without a moment to lose.

"Hello. It's a pleasure to see you again, Floyd. I trust you all ready have everything set?" Stockman said, looking graciously around the room and nodding as he noted that they indeed had all the proper equipment ready to go.

"Yes, sir. We can start now, in fact."

"And the… candidate?" Stockman asked, frowning at the empty table.

"Actually, our own Lavinia Fontaine is so confident in our work that she herself has volunteered!" Floyd flung and arm back, groping blindly until he found the woman's thin wrist. He tugged her forward, perhaps a little too roughly because she stumbled.

Catching herself, Lavinia blushed and looked up at Stockman shyly.

"G-good evening, Mr. Stockman, sir," She stammered, wiping her hand on her lab coat before extending it to shake his.

Stockman's palm was cool as it enveloped hers. Long fingers curled around the back of hers and his grip was firm. She couldn't stop the pleased shiver that ran own her spine as his other hand gently patted the top of their shaking hands.

"Beautiful," he commented in his smooth, tenor voice, yes roaming over her face appraisingly.

Blood rushed to her cheeks as he smiled warmly at her and she suddenly felt light headed. She laughed nervously and struggled to find some clever response, but thankfully, he released her and turned to Floyd.

Clapping his hands, Stockman said," Well, not to hurry you two, but I am in a rush. Mind if we get started?"

"Of course! Of course!" Floyd gushed, nodding his head in agreement. He placed a hand on the small of Lavinia's back, gently indicating that she should sit on the table. She followed his instructions; folding her hands self consciously in her lap as Stockman regarded her.

"So, tell me about this new concoction of yours, Floyd," Stockman asked, sounding quite serious, though his eyes strayed back towards Lavinia. Lavinia blushed more and lowered her gaze to the floor. Her stomach fluttered with excitement under the obvious attention she was receiving from their boss.

"Well, it's actually a mix of different experimental mutagens and some animal genes specifically chosen to enhance certain traits in humans. They are dominant traits that will most certainly take over our weaker ones and…" Floyd went into a lengthy explanation, but Lavinia could only hear the thumping of her own heart as it pounded frantically against her rib cage. She gripped the edge of the table tightly and stared at Floyd, trying to nod and hum at all the right spots, though she wasn't registering a word he said.

This experiment was her baby and had been the only thing on her mind for months, but her mind went completely blank as she felt the white hot gaze of her employer raking over her body. She concentrated on sitting straight and sucking her stomach in, though she wore a heavy lab coat that hid her figure anyway.

She was so consumed by her own bashful thoughts that, before she knew it, Floyd had placed a hand on her shoulder. He stood directly in front of her smiling expectantly and holding a syringe filled with solid colored blue liquid.

"Um… I'm sorry, Mr. Floyd, could you repeat that?" She asked. Floyd's smile didn't waver, but his eyes glittered with mirth because he knew about her admiration for Stockman, which only made her blush darken more still. She could only hope Stockman did not notice.

"Are you ready, dear?" Stockman chuckled, smiling widely at her.

Her voice failed, so she could only nod.

Without further adieu, Floyd moved the collar of her coat and plunged the needle into her neck. It was incredibly painful. All flirtatious thoughts about her boss disappeared immediately and she clenched her teeth to prevent herself from whimpering.

The liquid was injected slowly and seemed to take an eternity. The spot where the needle pierce her flesh was hot and the heat seemed to slowly spread as the liquid traveled through her blood stream. Finally the needle was removed and she sighed in relief, though warmth still spread through her body.

"Here," Floyd all ready had a cotton ball ready for her to press against her neck. Then, he turned towards Stockman, who was rubbing his chin and frowning.

Lavinia's throat felt dry and her mind worked as she considered her reactions. Quickly following the warmth was a sensation of tingling. It was as though her nerves were trembling in anticipation of their imminent mutation.

"How do we know the compound worked?" Stockman asked.

"We're not sure how long the serum will need to take effect," Floyd explained," It could be as soon as a few minutes and as long as a few weeks."

Stockman did not look impressed.

In fact, from Lavinia's angle, his expression became more and more blurred until, quite suddenly, she couldn't make out his features at all. Before long, the entire room had become fuzzy.

"What the…" She whispered, reaching her hands up to check if her glasses were still on. They still rested on the bridge of her nose. Alarmed that the experiment seemed to have blinded her, she ripped the plastic frames off and the world jolted into crystal clarity.

Her stomach twisted and protested in shock, threatening to expel her dinner, and she swayed as her mind tried to register the startlingly clear surroundings.

Lavinia blinked slowly. It was as though she were seeing things in more detail than ever before. She was certain she could even make out the fibers in Stockman's lab coat as he looked at her in concern.

"Is everything all right?" He asked.

"Yes…" Lavinia breathed," I can see… Oh my gosh, I can see!"

"It worked!" Floyd whooped, fisting the air in enthusiasm. Stockman looked amused as well as he watched him, but as he turned his gaze back to Lavinia, he frowned. Then, his expression melted into one of annoyance.

"Floyd!" He snapped.

Lavinia's brows furrowed in confusion," What's wrong?"

When Floyd turned, his expression melted from one of joy to one of horror.

"What's wrong?!" Lavinia demanded again, reaching her hands up to touch her face. Her skin felt cool and remarkably smoother than before. That was a blessing. However, something wasn't right. Her entire body had tingled seconds after the injection, but now was starting to burn.

An incredible pain started on her neck. Her hand flew to the spot and rubbed. It felt cool to her fingertips, but the skin continued to burn and it spread rapidly to her jaw and face, then down her chest. Like a wild fire it scorched her body painfully. She cried out and clawed in vain at her shirt.

When Lavinia looked down she noted that her hands were turning blue and inky black rings began to spot along her knuckles, moving up her arm. Her pinky and ring fingers had melted off and were lying curled up and hissing on the ground, where they continued to disintegrate.

She screamed in terror, kicking away from the horrifying scene. Her feet also began burn. They felt like they were on fire. Whimpering loudly, she ripped off her shoes.

Her feet had also turned blue and she only had two swollen toes left.

Somehow, despite the countless nights she'd spent going over the formula, there had been a mistake. There had to be a way to fix it! Lavinia looked hopefully at Stockman.

"This is a disaster," Stockman said, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the woman. He turned to Floyd," Dispose of her. Then you and I need to… Talk."

Floyd paled and looked after Stockman as he disappeared in a flurry of flowing lab coat.

"Floyd…" Lavinia whimpered, her eyes stinging. Surely Stockman hadn't meant…

Of course, their lab illegally tested on humans. But, it was for the betterment of mankind! Some people died during experimentation, but they were forewarned that it was a possibility. Never had they killed someone intentionally!

"Lavinia… I'm… sorry…" Floyd couldn't look at her as he unlocked a small drawer.

Lavinia shook her head, eyes widening in terror as he pulled out a gun. This had to be a nightmare. She and Floyd were friends. Just the other night, they'd gone out for drinks and she helped him stagger home after having one too many shots.

"F-Floyd…?" She whispered, eyes filling with tears. He did not respond, only raised the gun. His hand shook and his bottom lip trembled as his mouth twisted into a sneer. His finger twitched on the trigger and looked up at her with sorrowful eyes. He was really going to kill her…

With a cry, she leapt towards him, arms outstretched. Somehow, she miscalculated the force she put into the jump and she crashed heavily into them, sending them both flying several feet away. Disoriented, she shook her head and didn't give him a chance to regain his own composure.

Leaping to her feet, and again somehow miscalculating the distance she meant to go, she darted away. The jump sent her an extra foot than she anticipated, but she used it to her advantage as she tore from the halls of the laboratory to burst into the streets of New York.

Though it was very late, several people were out. Stopping only for a second to think of a game plan, she pulled up the collar of her lab coat jogged for her apartment. She would only grab a few things, like cash, and go. Surely, it would be the first place Floyd checked for her. Hopefully, she would make it before he did.

Hunched, she curled into herself as she wove in and out of people. Her apartment was several blocks away, unfortunately. She'd normally take a cab, but for obvious reasons, that was out of the question.

She knew she'd have to hurry, especially because she was on foot.

She turned sharply into an alley that she knew to be a short cut. She'd always been the one to criticize the stupid girls in movies who ducked into dark alleys, but running around the streets of New York with the way she looked was too dangerous. Someone was bound to notice.

Thankfully, the streets were clear when the towering, aged building she called home came into view. Poking her head through the glass doors, she was relieved when no one was in the lobby. She darted through the halls, up the stairs, and then clumsily unlocked the door to her small apartment. Quickly, she slipped in and slammed the door, panting heavily.

The clock on the wall said she'd made it home in record time, but her mad dash left her winded.

As she leaned against the door, she noted that there were no screaming sirens. No angry mobs with pitch forks. And thankfully, no Floyd. _Yet_, she reminded herself. She didn't have a minute to waste.

Her heart throbbed in pain as she thought of her friend. He'd turned on her so quickly. All for his job…

"In the name of science…" She whispered to herself mockingly and released a choked sob as she looked at her hands. Three fingers on each hand. Blue and spotted on the top. Yellow palms. She was a monster…

She shook her head and sighed shakily. She wanted to mourn; to scream in anger. But, she did not have time to linger if she wanted to live and try to find a cure.

She rushed to her bedroom and dug through her dresser drawer to pull out an old worn envelope: her stash of emergency cash. She had to have at least a thousand in there, but she'd have to count later.

She jammed the envelope into her pocket, but then thought better of it. She was wearing stark white work cloths. The clothes underneath were also blaringly white. She might as well hang a sign around her neck with big bold letters saying: Here I am!

She had to put on something less conspicuous.

Quickly stripping to her underwear, she stared down at her body in shock.

Her torso and stomach was yellow, her sides and back red, and she had neat black stripes on her collar bone and hips. Slowly, she looked up at the mirror on her dresser and cried out in shock.

Staring back at her was a red, orange, and black patterned face. She had no ears. She had no hair. And she had no nose.

She was _hideous_.

No wonder Floyd had been so eager to kill her…

She felt tears fill her eyes, but before she could release them, she heard heavy footsteps stop just outside her door.

Lavinia suddenly realized how small her apartment was and mentally berated herself for not purchasing a gun like Floyd had suggested months ago.

'_Oh, no one would rob, me silly. I have nothing worth stealing'_ She'd said.

"I'm such an idiot!" She moaned, eyes darting frantically for a game plan.

Who ever was on the other side of her door began to pound hard on it. It shook violently on its hinges. Before long, the old wood would give way and they'd be standing only feet from her.

"What am I gonna do?!" She hissed to herself, eyes darting around the room," I'm going to die!"

Her eyes settled on her bedroom window. She was three stories up… but, there were grooves and dips in the architecture. Maybe she could climb down…

Gulping, she darted for the window and threw it open. Leaning out, she whimpered at the distance to the ground. Was it worth it? She looked over her shoulder.

The pounding on the door became more ferocious. The middle seemed to bend inwards. It was on the brink of busting. There was no time for another plan.

Yes. It was her only option.

Taking deep breaths, Lavinia tried not to look at the ground as she lifted a leg over the ledge.

She carefully maneuvered herself out of her window and dug her fingers and toes into the cracks to steady herself the best she could. Unfortunately, it seemed that losing two fingers on each hand wasn't all that had changed. Her fingers seemed stubbier, too, so wedging them between the cracks that would easily fit normal sized fingers, was rather painful. She tried to bite her lip and ignore it as she shakily lowered a foot, using her toes to feel for the next groove.

It was a struggle, but she very carefully made it one story when her fingers slipped. She cried out in horror, but miraculously, her hand stuck to the wall on its own accord. Her head spun at the impossibility and she felt suddenly like she was dreaming as she stared at the hand seemingly pasted on the bricks.

Heart pounding erratically, she laughed nervously to herself and thanked the stars for that particular mutation.

It was just so… impossible. Unfortunately, the crack and smash of her apartment door was definitely not a dream. Neither were the heavy foot falls across the carpet. She had to hurry.

Using her suddenly sticky palms, she crawled backwards down the building in a slightly faster pace than before. She couldn't help the amusement she felt as she thought of spider man. However, her hilarity was short lived as a black masked face poked out of her window and looked right at her.

An unfamiliar voice said," There she is!"

Lavinia jolted in alarm and her footing slipped. Before she knew it, she was falling, too shocked to utter a sound.


	2. Chapter One

Relativity

Rated: T+ (May go up in later chapters)

WARNING: This story contains ideologically sensitive material involving human mutation and mutant love.

Leatherhead/OC

_Relativity: A state of dependence in which the existence or significance of one entity is solely dependent on that of another._

…

Chapter One

"Come on slow pokes! You must be the ones who inspired the story: _The Tortoise and the Hair_!" Michelangelo taunted as he led the nightly training route over the roof tops of Manhattan. He moved smoothly and strived to keep ahead of his brothers. They were all hot on his tail, but he was definitely putting a strain on them.

As he glided with practiced ease from one rooftop to another, he heard the soft pad of his brothers landing soon after he did and he knew he would not keep the lead for long.

"Can it, Mike! Just wait til I get my hands on ya!" Raphael growled back, though he sounded quite winded.

Mikey laughed heartily and sank lower on his heels to propel himself over another ledge when something caught his eye. He stopped in his tracks and looked. A girl was climbing out of her window in her underwear. He'd normally have something quite hilarious to say about such a scene, but there was something funny about her.

Unfortunately, before he could figure it out, Raphael crashed into him, followed by Donatello and Leonardo thankfully stopped just short of completing the dog pile, though he teetered before backing away, looking somewhat annoyed. .

"Hey, what's the hold up, Mike?" Leo asked as he folded his arms over his plastron and gave a cocky smirk," giving up all ready?"

"No! There was a girl-!" Michelangelo fervently protested beneath his two older brothers, struggling to wriggle out.

Donatello disentangled himself from Raphael and dusted himself off," Peeping at innocent girls is not a good excuse to sabotage us all."

"Dude, get your lard butt OFF!" Michelangelo roughly shoved Raphael off of him and ignored Donatello completely to dart to the edge of the building. The girl was hanging from her window sill and it seemed as though someone dressed in all black was moving around inside.

"Look!" He said, pointing.

The other three leaned over to see whatever he was pointing at. The girl was slowly climbing downward, her footing very clumsy. She slipped several times, but barely managed to catch herself.

"Do you guys uh… notice something… _special_ about her…" Donatello asked.

"Other than da fact that she's scaling a wall practically naked?" Raphael put in.

"She's… red…" Leonardo observed, narrowing his eyes at the scene. Indeed, the skin of the woman's back did seem to be a bright crimson color.

"And blue and orange," Mikey added, nodding," See! I told you I saw something! And I wasn't peeping this time!"

Leo sent Michelangelo a scolding look and opened his mouth to give a miniature lecture about the inappropriateness of peeking at unsuspecting indecent humans, but was interrupted.

"Guys, I think she needs help!" Donatello stated, straightening and pointing to where a man was leaning out of her window. He wore a mask that hid most of his features, but proudly bared an uncomfortably familiar bright red insignia on his upper arm.

"The Foot!" Leonardo snarled, reaching for his swords.

Donatello surprised everyone by jumping over the edge of the building before anyone else could react and not a moment too soon…

…

The world seemed to suddenly move in slow motion as Lavinia's hand slipped from the old brick wall. Her body reacted sluggishly; her arms flailed, swinging uselessly behind her and grabbing for something to grip and stop her fall.

Her heart leapt into her throat, throbbing in panic and making her choke. The wall drifted slowly away and the man in the window was making angry, violent gestures, but his voice was muffled in her ears. Terror roared in her mind, instead, drowning all other sounds around her.

_I'm going to die…_ She thought to herself, tears prickling her eyes, _I can't believe it's ending this way…_

The seconds dragged on and she seemed to be falling for an eternity when abruptly, she stopped. A force hit her at her knee joints and shoulder blades, knocking the wind out of her. Gasping, her mind noted that her guts were not splattered all over New York pavement.

It also informed her that she was cradled in strong arms and pressed gently against a cool, hard surface. Her vision swam for a few moments, especially because no sooner had her body stopped falling when she got the feeling of weightlessness once more.

Though she was conscious of the movement, her mind, having all ready been scared witless, went completely blank. Dazed, she instinctively clung to her savior.

Blinking rapidly, Lavinia focused on the hard surface, closest to her face. It was an off yellow color, flecked with brown. Smooth under her fingers, it had an indented groove right in the center and small, thin lines across the otherwise even surface.

Mind stressed, her fingers absentmindedly focused on tracing them. Strange the way the lines dipped into the hard plane, thinning to a point on each end. Almost like battle scars forever tainting the expanse.

"Leo, we should just go. There are a lot more in the apartment and she isn't looking too good," A male voice said and the surface below her strange new fingers vibrated. Her savior's voice, her mind supplied.

It was mature; sweet; the voice of someone with a good heart. Somehow she just knew these things to be true and even though fatigue threatened to claim her, she turned her gaze upward to smile gratefully at him.

Other strange voices spoke around her and she should have been concerned about the fact that her savior's face was a green and purple blur, but her over-taxed mind couldn't be bothered by such trivial things. With a soft sigh, she allowed unconsciousness to claim her.

…

It was bad enough when the woman was caressing his plastron, but when she passed out and began to snuggle against him, Donatello could no longer suppress a heated blush. He was grateful they were almost to the lair because his orange clad brother was beginning to eye him mischievously.

"Aww! Why do _you_ get to be the knight in shining armor?" Mikey pouted as they headed as quickly as possible back to their lair," I saw her first!"

"Well, ya shoulda reacted faster instead o' gawkin' like a love-sick hatchling," Raphael responded, following closely behind Donny and Mikey. Mikey was leaning close and inspecting the woman, while Donny tried to shy away, giving his orange clad brother an annoyed look.

"'sides, ya might as well give up now. Donny-boy's all ready looking pretty smitten with da broad. Always gotta be da first ta snag all da ladies, eh?" Raphael teased, reaching out to tug the purple bandanna as he snickered.

Donny felt more heat rise to his cheeks and spluttered indignantly.

"Yeah! How come you never give someone else a chance to get a girl? You all ready failed miserably on April! Be the bigger turtle and let me carry her. Besides, my handsome face should be the first she sees, so she's not as startled by your guys' ugly mugs," Michelangelo quipped, holding his arms out to take the slumbering woman.

"W-what are you guys _talking_ about?!" Donatello squeaked, feeling as though his entire face was on fire now under the harassment," April's our friend! I never…she…we… it's not like-!"

Leonardo sighed and rolled his eyes. He took the tail end of the group, listening carefully just in case they were followed. However, as Raphael and Mikey continued to tease Donny, they only grew louder and his ability to hear was being hindered.

There was no doubt that this woman was being hunted by the Foot clan and soon the streets would be swarming with enemy ninja. Before long, they'd extend their search to the sewers and while their lair was well hidden and protected, they shouldn't take any chances.

Raphael suddenly got a particularly evil glint in his eye as Donny's face only turned more scarlet and Leo took the opportunity to intervene before this got ugly.

"That's enough, you two. Cut it out. This is no joking matter. It's bad enough that we have a random mutant in our hands, not knowing anything of her origins, but we also know the Foot is involved and desperately wants her. This isn't the time for games," He looked pointedly at Michelangelo, who only raised his eye ridges innocently and shrugged.

The brothers fell into a contemplative silence and Leo, ever vigilant, perked his ears again for any unusual sound. The gentle roar of cars driving over them was almost masked by the soft tinkling of water dripping around them and the gentle howl of wind squeezing into the sewers, but he heard no living movement. No tell-tale splash of feet trudging through murky water after them.

There was a time when Leo was more care free, like his brothers, but it seemed that as they grew older, the world above them become more and more dangerous for them. Their enemies, the Foot, were gaining power daily and with Master Splinter deathly ill, they could do nothing but watch.

Now they had a mysterious mutant woman on their hands and something about her all ready wasn't sitting right with Leonardo.

He'd been trained to trust his senses and alarm bells were screaming in his mind.

Mutants weren't born. They were either subjects of freak accidents or created. Since he'd not heard of any freak chemical spills on the news, Leo couldn't help but assume that this woman was a creation; perhaps one that belonged to the Foot and escaped. Or… that was what they wanted him to think.

His eyes darted to Donatello's shell. The woman's strange patterned face was cradled in the crook of his elbow. He could see that she looked innocent enough, but if she was a weapon, then that would be precisely how the Foot would want her to look. Innocent. Harmless. Beautiful.

_Beautiful? _Leonardo instantly admonished himself. She was possibly the enemy; and he wasn't about to start drooling all over himself like Mike and Don all ready were. With Master Splinter currently bedridden, it was up to him to see to it that his family came to no harm. Until he could be sure, he'd watch this woman like a hawk and if she so much as twitched in the wrong direction he'd be on her like white on rice.

…

"I know this sounds weird coming from me and it's not like I'm not enjoying the view, but don't you think we should cover her up, dude?" Michelangelo suggested, gesturing the mutant woman lying unconscious on Donatello's bed, covered only by her plain white under garments.

Mikey sat nearby on a rolling stool, watching as Donatello took her temperature and tsked to himself.

"A little on the warm side… huh? What was that, Mike?" Donny asked, turning to frown at his little brother, who, despite being a twenty year old, was spinning on his chair like a child. He stopped to answer, swaying slightly and shaking his head.

"Like, I know this is probably the only time you'll ever get a half naked woman in your bed, but I think you should at least put a blanket over her or something," Mikey said in one of his rare logical moments.

Donny's eye ridges furrowed, but he dismissed the half naked woman comment," Mikey… it's ridiculously hot and humid in here. I haven't fixed the air, yet. She all ready has a fever. If I cover her, she'll only get hotter."

The purple masked turtle blushed when Mikey sent him a skeptical look," Uh huh… That's the best excuse you could come up with? In the meantime, if she wakes up in your bed wearing hardly anything in front of several strange male mutant turtles, I'll let you handle the crazy screaming lady."

"Mike! I am _not_ making excuses! She has a fever! If you cover someone who's got a fever-!"

"Yea, yea. Hey! Maybe if you repeat it enough, you'll start to believe it," Mikey smirked and folded his arms over his plastron, forgetting that his chair had no back as he leaned back. Donny only raised an eye ridge and allowed his baby brother to lean until the chair toppled over.

Michelangelo crashed with a surprised cry into the bookshelf behind him, knocking the shelves and thick novels off. They piled on his head and he groaned. Served him right.

Shaking his head, Donatello turned back to his patient, pressing a hand to her forehead.

Her skin was all ready a bright red color, so it was hard to tell if she was flushed or not, however heat radiated from her. She was feverish, but it wasn't serious. Her body should fight it off in no time without antibiotics. Donatello assumed the stress was taking its toll on her, nothing more.

"Mikey, I'm going to get a cool, wet cloth to help cool her down. Hopefully, then, she'll wake soon and we can talk to her about what's going on. Keep an eye on her," Donny instructed.

Mikey extracted himself from the pile of books that pelted him and rubbed the top of his head, but grinned cheerfully at his older brother," Roger that!"

Frowning, Donny paused and sent a warning glance over his shoulder," And keep your hands to yourself, you lecher."

"Sheesh, I'm not _that_ evil, Don! I'd at least let her wake up first," Michelangelo teased.

"I mean it!" Donatello called back.

Mikey was totally kidding. He'd never touch her inappropriately. He was just enthralled that there was a new mutant. A female mutant, no less. She was so unique looking, too. The dark striped pattern was almost tribal looking. It was wicked. Mikey almost wished they'd inherited some of the markings of their kin.

Righting the rolling stool, he sat on it and scooted closer to inspect her face. Her expression was relaxed in her sleep. Her features were so unusual, even to Mikey, but strange in a pretty sense.

A small moan escaped her lips and he leaned forward some, tilting his head," you alive, dudette?"

Brown eyes fluttered open and the woman raised a hand to her head, groaning louder this time. Mikey looked uncertainly over his shoulder. He sure acted confident before, but he'd never imagined he'd have to confront this woman all alone!

…

Lavinia's head was throbbing. She felt as though someone had taken a mallet to her head and beat it savagely into mush. She was relieved to find that she in bed, though. Her dream had felt so real.

"What a horrible nightmare…" She murmured to herself.

"Bad dream?" Came a husky, surfer accented voice.

Lavinia froze and bolted up. She noted that not only was she not in her bed, but she wasn't clothed and her skin was red! _Bright_ red.

"Oh no…" She whimpered, looking down at the strange patterns on her skin when a warm hand touched her shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

She jerked and looked into startling blue eyes, which would have normally enthralled her, but considering their owner was green, her insides turned to ice.

Green skin, rounded snout, and a shell. Clearly an animal. A horrifying, twisted animal.

Whatever it was it looked like it had crawled right out of one of her worst nightmares.

Heart racing, Lavinia took a deep breath and screamed.


	3. Chapter Two

A/N: I apologize for my LENGTHY absence. I don't have any excuses! Just life. Same ol' stuff carrying me away! :) I read over this story and, unlike my others, felt it deserved another chance. I DO love Lavinia. She was always my favorite. Hopefully I haven't forgotten too much. Also, I have written virtually NOTHING in years, so please forgive any grammatical errors or just plain old terrible writing in general. Anyone who is interested in beta-ing my work please message me! I'm interested in the help. :)

Relativity

Rated: T+ (May go up in later chapters)

WARNING: This story contains ideologically sensitive material involving human mutation and mutant love.

Leatherhead/OC

_Relativity: A state of dependence in which the existence or significance of one entity is solely dependent on that of another._

...

Chapter Two

Michelangelo straightened as he realized the tiny mutant female was waking and he looked over his shoulder for backup, in clear remembrance of April's first wakening in their sewer.

It had been many years ago, but the memory still seemed fresh in his mind. After all, that moment had land marked several important things in his life. One being, he'd never been so close to a human, let alone a _female_ human, before, very important for his raging and hormonal fifteen year old self. He remembered the way his heart hammered in his chest as he'd watched her unconscious, both terrified and mystified that such creature was so close to him. He'd been taught to respect and fear humans, never to reveal himself to one, and yet one lay on his couch. Another very important revelation he had in that moment was that he was heterosexual. He'd never really had urges or sexual drives before meeting April. It was as though "female" did not exist in his world until she did. It was well known to the woman, he imagined now, that all the turtles had had some level of a crush on her in their youth, Donny the most of all, but that was in the past. Mostly.

Mikey suspected that some feelings might still linger for her within Donny, though the quiet turtle would never admit to having them.

However, he dashed this minute pondering from his mind as the large brown eyes of the tiny mutant stranger settled on him. Her eyes caught his for a moment before taking in the rest of his face. As she absorbed his features, her eyes became wider and wider and Mikey's heart sank lower and lower.

"This is going to hurt..." He muttered to himself, raising a hand as if to block himself before a terrified scream erupted from her throat. The cry seemed particularly loud, much louder than he remembered April's being. As though hit by a sonic wave, he threw himself away from her in shock, again crashing into Donatello's bookcase. The few that had not already toppled down added to the abuse his poor skull had already taken.

Mikey barely had time to blink the stars from his eyes before more unidentified projectiles made contact with his skin. His arms instantly rose to cover his face, but he peeked between them.

The tiny red mutant girl was on her feet, face twisted in hysteria as she grabbed any object within reach and chucked it at him. Her scream had died out, but she was still screeching in aggression with each throw. It was clear that she was so afraid of him that she was not even taking the time to assess the situation. Or... and Donny would be proud that this even occured to him... she was not sentient _enough_ to understand that he was cowering in a corner, not attacking her.

Even considering this, he figured it might be worth the effort to talk, so he ducked as another object sailed toward his head and tried.

"Hey, hey," He said in what he hoped was a soothing voice," Calm down, girlie. _I'm_ the good guy. Well... I mean if you discount an unclean thought or two! Heh..."

It was supposed to be a joke and it made her pause a moment to frown down at him. He considered that this might be an ideal time to tackle her, but seeing as she held some beaker of mystery fluid in her raised hand, he chose to stay put and smile up at her. Her face was unreadable for a few minutes until it darkened again and she bared her teeth, pulling her arm back to throw the beaker at him.

In all honesty, Michelangelo adored Donatello's intelligence (his creations were always _wicked_), but he definitely did not fancy having some random liquid found in his room splattered all over him. So, the muscles in his legs bunched as he prepared himself to launch at the girl when a stern voice from the doorway made them both freeze.

"Enough," Leonardo said coldly, eyes narrow in irritation and moving from the girl to Mikey. He shook his head minutely at the younger turtle and Mikey knew he believed that he had provoked the girl in some way. Mikey scowled back in silent denial.

Behind him stood Raphael, arms crossed over his plastron and gazing past the broad shoulders of the eldest turtle, surveying the damage. His breath was short and quick and he had a light sheen over his skin. Apparently they'd interrupted his nightly workout session, but this was likely more exciting to him anyway. Any sort of violence always seemed to draw the red-banded turtle from his cave.

The girl paled slightly, a minute change that Mikey barely caught, under Leo's gaze. His brows were furrowed and his frown deep. A surprisingly severe look on him, for whatever reason. It was Leo's "I'm-not-playing-this-game-so-shape-up-now-before-I-make-you" look. Mikey was almost always on the receiving end of _that_ expression.

Mikey also did not miss that Leo was still in full gear and had a single katana drawn, resting in a comfortable, yet ready low position near his thigh. It was a deceptive position, because though he looked relaxed, he needed only a second to react. Leo had always been the fastest of them all.

Whether the girl noted the weapon which was partially concealed in shadow or not was unclear as she stood frozen, staring directly back into Leonardo's glaring eyes.

For a moment no one seemed to breath.

Finally, Leo's expression softened a fraction and he held up a hand, fingers spread, before him, slowly taking a step toward the girl. It was meant to be a calming, white flag gesture, but it was not lost on Mikey that the other hand held tight onto the hilt of the katana.

"Calm down. We're not going to hurt you," Leonardo said, voice smooth and even. He held the girl's gaze steadily as he continued to advance on her, taking care not to rush forward and startle her.

"I _tried_ to tell her that already and she-Ow!" The blue eyed turtle, who was still sprawled on a mountain of books rubbed his abused skull and glowered up at his older brother, Raphael, who'd sneakily stepped in beside him and took the moment to pop him on the head with a heavy fist.

"_Shut up_," Raphael hissed down to him.

"You will not be attacked by us. Just relax and _I'll_ take _that_," as soon as he was within reach, Leonardo plucked the beaker from the girl's red fingers and gingerly set it out of her reach on the desk behind him.

"Now..." He continued as her arms slowly slid to her sides and she still watched him," Just take a deep breath and try to calm down. We are not your enemy."

The mutant girl's chest still rose and fell rapidly and her wide brown eyes darted around the room, seemingly either surveying it's occupants or taking an account of how many people she was matched against. Regardless of her thought process, she bowed her head and her shoulders slumped in defeat.

Leonardo also visibly relaxed. With their experience, he knew one could never trust strangers, no matter how small they were. With this girl, even he had a hard time maintaining his vigilance. She was rather thin and lanky; a runner's body. Though she stood at about their height, she looked like she'd bow under the mere weight of Donny's wooden bo staff. However, appearances were deceiving. Leonardo knew that too well. Especially in regards to mutants, one could never be too cautious.

Still, he felt that it was safe enough to slide his katana back into it's sheath. With practiced eased, it barely made a sound and went completely undetected by the female before him who only kept her head bowed.

She seemed to be surveying her hands, holding them before her face and turning them over and over. Yellow palm, blue top, yellow palm, blue top. No one said anything for the few moments that she did this.

Leo used the time to consider what he wanted to say and where he should start. He knew nothing of this girl. Had _heard_ nothing of mutant experiments among the Foot, yet clearly they were involved. Donatello and Leatherhead had spent pain-stakingly long hours before computer screens hacking systems and spying on their enemy and yet this very important detail had slipped past them.

This was very crucial information because the Foot now had it's slimy fingers buried deep within many resources these days. They had grown alarmingly powerful and had many open supporters. So, it was disappointing to admit to himself that they were in the dark here. They had no idea how this girl came to be or who created her. They knew nothing.

So lost in his thoughts was he that he jumped slightly when the girl looked at him. Her movement was not sharp, yet he'd nearly forgotten she was there. He waited for her move, ever the paranoid one. He liked to think of himself as prepared.

However, as she looked up at him with large brown eyes red-rimmed and filled to the brim with tears, he was _not_ prepared. How could he be? He was trained to handle battle. He could run into a room full of swinging swords without batting an eyelash, but... a small female fixing him with such a sad and lost expression, what could he do?

At 26 years old, it had been years since he last exercised compassion. His brothers did not cry. Not anymore. Sure as small children, but it had been ages. Perhaps the last time had been when their father had...

Leo shoved the thought from his mind as Donatello burst into the room looking more than annoyed.

"What is going on here? Is there a reason why three full grown turtles are harassing my patient?" He demanded, pushing past Raphael and Mikey to approach the girl. He sent Leo a reproachful look. Certainly he had heard her cries, but evidently had not been overly concerned about them. He chose not to comment further on the matter and did not wait for their responses, though Mikey looked to be on the urge of spluttering in angry protest.

Donatello smiled softly at the red skinned girl," allow me to introduce myself as I am sure my neanderthal brothers did not make an effort. My name is Donatello. They are Leonardo and Michelangelo. And the scary looking fellow in the corner is Raphael. He's all brawn and no brain. You don't have to worry about him."

Donatello glanced over his shoulder to see Raphael snort and slink out of the room. He smiled back at the girl reassuringly. She stared uncertainly back.

"You're safe here. You have my word," He promised.

The girl searched his eyes for a second before pursing her lips and nodding in acceptance.

"First thing is first. How are you feeling? You were running quite the fever a moment ago. May I..." He held his hand toward her forehead, hovering as he waited for permission.

When the girl nodded, but did not answer him, he gently pressed his fingers to her head and cheek. She flinched at his touch, but he pretended not to notice. A quick surveillance of her very recent actions told him that she was a very special mutant, for she must be a human to animal mutant, unlike them. It was clear to him in the way she screamed in terror at what was likely her first sight of Mikey. He had indeed heard her frantic attack on them and finally when he walked in and she stared at her own skin as though it could not possibly be hers. All minute details that led him to his conclusion. Of course there was also the blaringly obvious evidence of her climbing out of a high rise apartment building. They were planning on inspecting it soon, once they were sure the Foot cleared out. It would have to be fast, though, because they might wipe evidence of her being there to begin with.

However... matters at hand first... then they could move forward. Donny was rather guilty of over planning and scheming his entire life. He often thought about events that would not occur for years, or might not at all.

"Your temperature feels as though it is cooling. That may or may not be a good thing. I can't tell yet, but you look like you could use some tea," he glanced over his shoulder at Mikey with raised eyebrow ridges. Mikey was daft at times, but he took the invitation greedily and scurried from the room.

"In the meantime, why don't you have a seat. I appears as though we need to talk," he further explained, gesturing his bed with the same warm smile.

The girl glanced at Leo, who had not budged from his spot near Donatello's desk. Her teeth were visibly clenched and her entire body was tense. As if deciding he was not an immediate threat, she stiffly sank onto the old mattress and clenched her hands together between her legs. Hunching slightly, it looked as though she wanted nothing more than to curl into herself and disappear, but she looked expectantly up at Donatello.

Donny slid a chair closer and seated himself on that, sitting back to look at her.

Michelangelo slid back in at that moment and timidly approached the girl. She glanced briefly at him and accepted the old mug of tea with a small smile and the youngest turtle slid back some, just in case she had a change of heart and chose to throw that at him too.

Thankfully, she didn't. She sniffed the tea and narrowed her eyes a bit, looking into the cup to inspect the liquid. Donny only watched curiously for the moment and Leo and Mikey thankfully stayed quiet behind him.

She sniffed it again, looking confused and frowning, but took a small sip anyway. Her eyes widened and she took a few more large gulps, either ignoring the temperature of the steaming tea or not noticing it at all. She downed half the cup before choking a bit and wiping her mouth. She looked shyly back at the purple masked turtle.

"Sorry... I guess... I guess I was thirsty..." She explained.

"That's quite all right," Donny replied," Enjoy. We can always make more."

"Thank you..." She murmured and took a smaller sip this time and closing her eyes as if savoring the flavor. Then, she moved to set the cup on his desk, pausing to send him a questioning glance. He nodded and she placed the cup just on the edge, careful not to touch or ruffle any papers or items atop.

Donny cocked his head curiously at this reaction, but did not comment on it. Instead, he said," So... you do speak."

The girl's skin darkened a shade , but she nodded.

"Good, that makes everything a lot easier. Do you have a name?"

"Lav-" She winced and rubbed her throat, clearing it a second and continued," Lavinia. Lavinia Fontaine."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lavinia," Donny extended his head. Lavinia only looked at it for a moment, perhaps bewildered by it's rough appearance, but he was unhindered and let it hang midair until she awkwardly slid his hand into his. Her palm was cool and smooth.

"It's... nice... to meet you, too..." she stammered clumsily.

"This must be very strange for you and for that I apologize. I suppose it's not everyday you meet four giant turtles, hm?" He asked.

She only nodded.

"It's a very strange day for us, too, actually. You see, we don't really meet a lot of mutants these days. You're definitely an oddity in our world, as well. Would you mind answering a few questions?"

When she did not reply, he continued," Such as... what happened tonight?"

Lavinia's face hardened a little and she ducked her head, stiffening even more. Seeing her legs, she became entranced by her exotic colored skin once again and gasped, covering her face with her hands. Her trembling shoulders would have quickly revealed the fact that she was crying, even if the heart broken sob had not left her lips.

In an immediate reaction, Donatello placed a hand on her shoulder, but she violently ripped her body away from him, face distorted in an expression he could not read. He barely had the time as she pulled her knees up and covered her head.

Donny sighed and let his hand drop, turning to look at Leo. Leo only frowned back and shrugged helplessly. He glanced to Mikey, but the orange banded turtle shook his head and looked sorrowfully at the crying girl.

"We'll give you some time..." Donny said finally," You've had a stressful night. Get some rest. You can sleep in here. There are extra blankets under the bed if you get cold."

Lavinia did not respond, but she grew quieter.

His brothers filed out of his room and he followed suite, closing the door tightly behind him.


End file.
